𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ,𝐁𝐔𝐓! -𝔴𝔢 𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢

|𝚝𝚠𝚘|

“Bithu!?”

She stopped dead in her tracks.

That voice.

She hadn’t heard it in three years—but it echoed now, exactly as it used to. Familiar, warm, and dangerously disarming. Her hands tightened around the tulips in her arms.

She turned slowly.

And there he was.

Dev stood just a few feet away, taller, sharper, but unmistakably him. He looked just as startled, though his expression quickly melted into a crooked smile.

“Well,” he began, walking toward her, “were you too busy to come say hi to your old commerce tutor? Or just blissfully unaware that I was here?”

Without waiting, he pulled her into a soft, almost nostalgic hug. She didn’t hug him back.

“I just woke up,” she said, stepping back. “Didn’t have time to go guest-spotting. And for the record, you weren’t my tutor.”

Dev raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Excuse me? I practically rescued your grade twelve self from flunking. A+ in commerce, remember? Admit it—I was amazing.”

“Yeah, amazing at distracting me with dumb jokes.” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s not talk about your groundbreaking teaching skills. Anyway, it’s been three years, hasn’t it?”

“Three years, yeah. Took a while to see you again,” he said, voice softening. “So... how’s life? Family?”

“Everything’s fine. Life, family, all smooth.” She paused. “Wait—why are you here?”

“Oh,” he said, chuckling. “Kaushik—my cousin—is getting married. Apparently, this is the big venue.”

He glanced at the flowers she still held. “Tulips? You still hate these?”

“Not mine. Diya’s allergic. I was just about to dump them.”

His eyes lit up. “Mind if I take them? You do remember how obsessed I am with tulips, right?”

She handed them over silently.

He cradled them like something precious. “So... you’re the planner here?”

“Yeah. The wedding planner,” she replied. Then she hesitated. “And... also the bride’s sister.”

His smile wavered.

“Diya?” he asked, quietly.

She nodded. “She’s getting married.”

“Oh... wow.” He looked down, stunned. “Didn’t realize it was that Diya. Small world, huh? My ex... is marrying into my family. That’s... poetic.”

His laughter was hollow. She could see it in his eyes—the ache. The remnants of a love that hadn’t quite faded.

“Life’s weird,” he muttered. “Crazy, even.”

She just nodded.

“Is she... happy?” he asked, voice low.

“I think so,” Ishaani replied, not meeting his gaze. She couldn’t bring herself to say Yes, she’s glowing. She’s moved on. She didn’t want to break him more.

Dev let out a soft exhale. “Funny, isn’t it? Three years change everything. Guess feelings have a shelf life.”

She looked up sharply. “No, Dev. Time doesn’t erase feelings. People change. Circumstances twist. Priorities shift. But feelings? They stay. Buried maybe. But alive.”

He blinked. “Whoa. Who turned you into a poet?”

“Life,” she said, gently. “And regret.”

A pause stretched between them.

“I should go,” she said suddenly, eyes darting away. “There’s still a ton of work left.”

“Right. Of course. See you around, Bithu,” he said, stepping back.

He turned and walked away, tulips in hand, leaving her behind with a head full of noise and a heart full of ache.

---

Later, in the villa...

Ishaani closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Diya sat in front of the mirror, adjusting her choker with a radiant smile.

The sight of her softened everything in Ishaani’s heart. Despite it all, she adored her sister. Always had. Always would.

But something inside her snapped. She couldn’t keep it in.

“He’s here,” she whispered.

Diya glanced at her reflection. “Who?”

Ishaani looked her straight in the eye.

“Dev.”